


Execution

by EmberLeo



Series: The Emberquizzy Chronicles [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Inquisitor/Solas, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Inquisitor is a Dreamer, Inquisitor knows Solas is ancient but not who he really is, Modern Girl in Thedas, Non-Crossover references to other fictional worlds, POV First Person, POV Inquisitor, Rated For Violence, Self-Insert, Thedas is an Otherworld, Thedas isn't a game world, pagan inquisitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 02:49:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19075957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmberLeo/pseuds/EmberLeo
Summary: Erimond seems unconcerned with the Inquisitor’s sentencing.Apparently, he’s forgotten that the Inquisitor is a Dreamwalker from another world.----------------------A side story from The Canticle of Dreams.It should stand alone, but will make more sense if you've read through Chapter 31 of the main story first.





	1. Judgement

**Author's Note:**

> You may want to read through The Canticle of Dreams - Chapter 31: Façades before reading this.  
> \---------
> 
> If I've left out a tag, especially a trigger warning, please let me know!
> 
> Thank you to my beloved UncleDark for beta reading for me!  
> -E-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inquisitor Ember doesn’t like hurting people. That doesn’t mean she won’t.

I sat in the fiery throne on the dais at the end of the great hall, an audience gathered at a respectful distance. There was a prisoner to judge. Not my favorite job, but in these cases, it had to be done.

Josephine stood to one side with her customary noteboard. “Adamant's influence continues, Your Worship,” she announced. “I submit Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, who remains loyal to Corypheus. We found him alive, offering extreme resistance, likely because the Order will ask for his head... in more _colorful_ terms. To say nothing of justice you might personally require for what was suffered in the fade.”

The rat-faced mage squirmed in his shackles. "I recognize none of this proceeding. You have no authority to judge me!"

"On the contrary,” Josephine replied calmly. “Many officials have communicated that they will defer to the Inquisitor on this matter. You have already been stripped of your title by the Magisterium."

“Because they fear. Not just Corypheus, but Tevinter, rightful ruler of every piece of ground you've trod in your pathetic life.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I have trod ground you can not hope to imagine, Erimond.” Sure, he could probably imagine the raw fade, but I’m guessing Disneyland is beyond him. “And let’s be honest, Ancient Tevinter merely huddled in the remains of fallen Elvhenan. Shall I seek an elf to decide your fate, then? Perhaps Grand Enchanter Fiona has sufficient wisdom to advise me? I’m quite sure she’d have an opinion on this matter, having been a Grey Warden herself.”

He spat on the ground at that. “I served a living god. Bring down your blades and free me from the physical. Glory awaits me!"

“And yet, any protection you thought you had has apparently been withdrawn. Normally I consider it a waste, but the damage you have done without an ounce of remorse deserves a far worse fate than I can bestow. I therefore sentence you to death.”

"Petty actions. You can not truly destroy me. Truth lies in the next world!"

 _Really?_ I stared at him, my smile grim. “Thank you for the warning. I’ll be sure to destroy you in the next world as well, then.”

“What?!” he shrieked. “You cannot!”

I stood from my throne and stalked deliberately towards him, my left palm facing out, the anchor sparking with spite. I reached out with my right hand to grasp his chin, and force him to look me in the eye. “Can’t I?” I replied quietly. “ _Sleep well, Erimond._ ”

The room immediately erupted in excited murmurs as they dragged the former magister away. I looked up to where Dorian, Vivienne, and Fiona were standing on the mezzanine, catching their eyes and tilting my head towards Josephine’s office. Then I walked over to where Varric was standing. “Varric, can you please find Solas and Morrigan, and bring them to Josephine’s office?”

“Sure, Pipes. That was an interesting bluff you just made. Are you sure it was a good idea?”

“That’s what I want to talk to you all about.”

“Got it.”

\-----

“Inquisitor!” Leliana caught up with me as I opened the door to Josephine’s office. “May I speak with you?”

“If it’s about Erimond’s sentence, please join us in the meeting I’m about to have with the other mages to discuss it.”

“Oh? Alright,” she agreed.

We sat opposite each other in the chairs before the fireplace, snarking about Erimond’s fashion sense as the others arrived.

“You called for us, Inquisitor?” Morrigan prompted. Dorian, Vivienne, Solas, and Fiona were all present. The door opened one last time, admitting Josephine, and Varric.

“I did, yes, and now you are all here, we can begin. I want to know the best way to go about Erimond’s sentence. My ultimate goal is that he and his unadulterated malice are totally destroyed, unable to further affect this world. Given that it is possible Corypheus did indeed promise him either some kind of afterlife in the fade, or the ability to live again, my immediate instinct is to find him the fade, kill him there, and _then_ kill his body here, to make sure he can’t escape. Would that actually work? Is there a better way?”

I watched as the mages around me considered my words, myriad emotions flickering across their faces. Only Solas seemed unmoved.

Dorian whistled low. “You truly believe Erimond may have some special power granted by Corypheus?”

“Honestly? I suspect Corypheus used him, just as he used the duchess. But we can’t afford to be wrong, and unlike the duchess, Erimond _is_ a Tevinter-trained mage. If there’s anything in Thedas Corypheus actually values, it’s Tevinter mages, yes?”

“You do have a point there,” Dorian agreed, frowning.

Varric cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to where he stood just inside the door. “When she sent us into the fade to rescue Feynriel from his dreams, Keeper Marethari told us killing him in the fade would render him Tranquil in the waking world. Since killing me and Merrill in the fade just woke us up, I’m guessing she meant that killing him in his own dream would do it.”

“‘Tis certainly possible, in theory,” Morrigan agreed, thoughtfully. “Killing the demon possessing Connor in the fade did both destroy it and separate it from Connor’s body. It would make sense that killing Connor’s own spirit would do the same, leaving his body dead, empty, or Tranquil.”

“Tranquility severs a mage’s connection to the fade, rendering them unable to perform magic, to dream, or to feel emotions,” Vivienne mused. “It’s never been entirely clear why the Rite severs their emotions, when Dwarves, who are also disconnected from the fade, and thus unable to dream or perform magic, are as emotional as any other sentient race.”

“But Tranquility can be reversed, at least in theory,” Fiona argued. “Severing that connection is not the same as destroying what is on the other side. If the Keeper is correct that the outward result is similar, that does not mean that the end result is the same.”

“Indeed, not,” Vivienne agreed. “Were they entirely equivalent, I would suggest that the Rite is a better method. But if we are truly concerned what Erimond’s spirit is capable of when separated from his body, the Rite of Tranquility might be worse. Our understanding of the Rite is imperfect at best, as recent events have proven.”

“Is there anything useful in Tevinter or Elvhen Somniari lore?” I asked, looking from Dorian to Solas.

“I confess, I have only just begun to study the Somniari in much detail since meeting you, dear Inquisitor,” Dorian apologized. “I haven’t come across anything about what dangers other than demons they may face in attempting to intervene in someone else’s dreams. There is a great deal of hearsay around what kind of dangers a Somniarus presents to those around them, but very little is written from direct experience, much less tested hypotheses.”

Solas finally spoke up, quietly. “The Keeper spoke without precision. I’m sure you’ve noticed that merely dreaming of dying does not kill the dreamer. An outside entity deliberately killing an ordinary dreamer in the fade simply banishes them from that dream, which will often wake them up, as Hawke discovered. Even a conscious mage killing an unconscious dreamer within their own mind is unlikely to do more than traumatize them, as the manifestation of a dreamer within the fade is merely a projection of their dreaming mind, not the actual presence of their soul in the fade.” I sighed, shrugging, but he shook his head and continued. “That said, destroying a soul via the fade is indeed possible. The impact on the surrounding fade is quite noticeable. I have found no evidence in the fade of this having happened for many centuries, but there have been few enough true Dreamers in recent years, even in Tevinter.” He paused, looking me straight in the eye. “If this is something you intend to do, Inquisitor, I insist on accompanying you. It will likely be dangerous, and no one else is equipped to follow you without significant expenditure of resources.”

“If I do this, of course I would want you with me,” I agreed. “Were you able to learn enough from what you saw of this in the fade to pick up how it could be done? Or what danger, if any, it presents to the Dreamwalker? I mean, I’m sure he’d fight me, so there’s that, but does the act itself carry a consequence or backlash?”

“Not that I could discern, Inquisitor. I could attempt to research it further, if you wish.”

“You have three days. No, wait, two. I should attempt it the night _before_ I execute him, right?”

“Are you quite sure about this, darling?” Vivienne asked. “It’s very likely simply killing the man is more than sufficient for your purposes. Is he really worth the risks?”

“I’m not interested in wasting our Lyrium resources on him, given how far out this is. But if there is some way I can guarantee Erimond’s twisted consciousness is never inflicted on Thedas again, I’m inclined to take it. We’ve seen how far he is willing to go on nothing more than a promise for power and glory.”

“Then allow me to research the Rite in more detail. If Cassandra can gain me access to Pharamond's infamous research, perhaps we can determine if a safer method will serve your purposes.”

“Fair enough.”

“I can help her with that, Inquisitor,” Leliana interjected.

“Why am I not surprised?” Vivienne murmured with amusement, earning a smirk from the spymistress in return.

“I, too, can help, Inquisitor,” Fiona offered. Vivienne raised an eyebrow at her, but Fiona’s expression was calm and sincere as she met the other woman’s eyes. Vivienne tilted her head slightly in acceptance. That was going to be an interesting project, no doubt.

I suppressed a laugh, earning me strange looks from everyone but Solas. “Alright then, if those of you who have ideas for research are satisfied for the moment, meeting adjourned,” I declared with a wry smile. The mages other than Solas departed, leaving us with Leliana, Josephine, and Varric.

“Did this meeting satisfy your curiosity, Leliana?” I asked.

“My curiosity, yes, but not my concerns. I’m sure you frightened Erimond with your threat, bluff or no. Did you intend to frighten anyone else?”

“Not specifically, no. Did it seem like I was making a veiled threat to onlookers?”

“Perhaps. With your permission, I can use this to our advantage.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone to take this as a personal challenge,” I frowned.

“You have made it abundantly clear with your judgments that you consider execution a cruel waste, Inquisitor,” the Josephine assured me, “I believe your sentence and threat serve to emphasize the severity of Lord Erimond’s crimes.”

“You don’t think the nobles will be scandalized by her comment about the elven claim to Tevinter?” Leliana asked, clearly amused.

“Some nobles will be scandalized by anything, of course, but most would take it either as a wise truth, or an attempt to humiliate Lord Erimond, depending on their personal views.”

“You will no doubt reinforce those perceptions, dear ambassador,” the spymaster teased.

“Well of course I will!” she agreed, “With the help of our own Master Tethras, of course.”

“Me?” Varric laughed, “I’m still busy telling everyone how the Inquisitor is secretly an angel, whose disguise I saw through when she took me fade walking with her and I saw her feathered wings!”

“People actually believe that?” I winced.

“It doesn’t matter if they _believe_ it, Pipes, as long as they repeat it. And they definitely repeat it. It’s too good a story to pass up!”

I pulled my hands down my face, groaning.

“Is it true, your worship?” Josephine asked me, obviously hoping I’d say yes.

“Which? The secretly an angel thing, or the wings?”

“She really did have wings in the fade, Ruffles, I swear,” Varric assured her.

I sighed, nodding. Josephine’s grin grew so excited, she practically vibrated with joy. Leliana laughed and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Calm down, Josie! Morrigan can turn into a bear! That doesn’t mean she’s secretly sent by a goddess!”

“Oh, I suppose not. But it is very exciting, isn’t it? Master Tethras, you simply must tell me the whole story tonight at dinner!”

Varric and Leliana laughed at my groans.

\-----

I met with Solas in the fade, to see if he had more information for me that he wasn’t comfortable sharing in front of the others.

“What you are asking for was once a form of execution in Arlathan for those who were powerful enough to require it,” he told me, his tone flat.

I looked him over with concern. “Solas, are you alright?”

“It is nothing, Inquisitor,” he replied formally, avoiding my eyes.

I furrowed my eyebrows. _Since when am I ‘Inquisitor’ when we’re alone?_ “Solas, what’s wrong?” I moved around him, pointedly establishing eye contact.

After a moment, his impassive expression gave way, and he closed his eyes, pained. I put my hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently.

“I would rather not discuss it right now,” he finally answered, “We have other things to focus on this evening.”

I frowned, wishing I could insist. “Okay, if that’s what you need. Just… please remember you’re not alone anymore, okay?”

His expression softened, and he opened his eyes, finally meeting mine willingly. He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh, dropping his shoulders under my hands. “I will try, _ma_ … Ember. Thank you.”

I pulled him in for a brief hug. His body remained stiff with the stress of whatever was bothering him, but he still buried his head in my hair, as usual when it’s down.

\-----

“Imagine a ball of triangular mirrors all facing inward,” Solas explained, calmly.

“Like a D20, okay,” I nodded. Solas didn’t blink. I think he’s gotten used to my weird references.

“The inside of the container will disorient anything within, slowing their ability to find a way out, giving you time to seal the trap.”

“Okay, and we do that how?” I asked.

He smiled slightly, pleased to instruct. “With veilfire runes. You recall those we found in the Fallow Mire, which attracted demons?”

I nodded.

“It is a similar exercise. The simplest form is used to record your words, feelings and, sensations. Channel them into the fire as you draw the forms. Combine that with the technique for infusing magic into a spell sigil, and you have the means to entice, compel, contain, or even destroy.”

“But I thought only Dwarves and Tranquil could safely craft runes,” I replied, confused.

“Ah, no. It is not the runes themselves, but the lyrium used to inscribe them for permanent enchantments, which present such a challenge. Even so, with proper precautions, anyone can enchant an item or craft a lyrium runestone.”

“Huh, okay. So… maybe we should back up, and work on how to make those veilfire runes?”

\-----

“That’s _Sowilo_!” I was pleased to see runes I recognized from the Elder Futhark.

“ _Elgara_ ,” Solas corrected, "Elgar'nan's rune."

“Oh,” I frowned, “What does it mean, then?”

“That is the rune of the Sun, used to represent-”

“Firelight and success?” I interjected, excited that my pre-Thedas training might actually be useful for once.

“And supreme power, yes,” he agreed. “You call this ‘ _Sowilo_ ’ then?”

“It’s also called ‘ _Sigel_ ’ or ‘ _Sol_ ’ depending on the language, yeah. Legend says it’s one of the runes Odin pulled from the Well of Wyrd.”

“Interesting. Elgar’nan is credited with bringing the runes into our world. No one was willing to openly disagree, but there are traces of memories that Mythal disagreed with her husband on this topic.”

I pondered that. “Well, I mean, Odin doesn’t seem to be here, so I guess it’s possible that both are true? Elgar’nan could have gotten them from Odin and brought them here, maybe?”

Solas frowned thoughtfully. “That would imply either that your Odin has visited this world in the past, or that Elgar’nan had access to other worlds. I have seen evidence of neither.”

I looked at him like he was crazy. “Really? I’ve seen all kinds of evidence. The runes. Dwarves and Elves. The plants and animals that are both here and in Midgard. Human cultures and languages that are clearly connected. Dwarven Trade is English for goodness sakes!”

“A fair point. Lacking access to your world, I am not in a position to confirm such evidence,” he allowed, with a half-smile.

“You’re laughing at me,” I pouted.

“I would never dare,” he assured me solemnly.

\-----

I could only produce Elder Futhark runes with any speed, and some of the runes required were totally unfamiliar to me. It wasn’t that I couldn’t learn the new symbols, so much as that their meanings were lost in translation out of Elvhen. Solas couldn’t quite convey to me how to conceptualize what they represented to his satisfaction, and my pronunciation was off.

After more than two-dozen attempts to reproduce his effects in my own work on one of the key runes, I threw my hands up in frustration.

“What am I missing, Solas?” I demanded, exasperated.

“Not ‘aoh’, but ‘aaoh’,” he explained again. The only difference I could hear sounded like regular syntax.

“Say those in the other order?”

“‘Aaoh’, ‘aoh’” he repeated. They sounded almost exactly the same as each other, but different from the previous sentence. I shook my head, sighing.

“‘Aoh’. ‘Ow’.” I growled in frustration. “You’re going to have to do this part, I think.”

“ _Ma nuvenin_ ,” he agreed. “Placing the walls will likely be the more dangerous role, however. Please be careful.”

“Of course. So, once we have his soul trapped, how do we _destroy_ it?” I asked.

He shook his head. “A soul cannot truly be destroyed in the sense you seek, it can only be fragmented or trapped away,” Solas explained. “If you kill a spirit, or an embodied person, what they were dissipates across the fade, but another will likely rise where they fell to personify what they once did, and the strongest souls can, over time, pull themselves back together to seek a new body.”

I frowned. “So even if we defeat Corypheus…?”

Solas nodded, his expression serious. “Even if we defeat Corypheus, short of banishing what remains of him to the Void, there is nothing we can do to guarantee he will never find a way to return. We can postpone it indefinitely, make it as challenging as possible for him or anyone else to put him back together, but we can not truly destroy the spirit that knows itself as ‘Corypheus’.”

“Well, shit. Do you think Erimond is that strong?”

“In truth, I doubt it. I suspect his master had no intention of sharing the secrets of immortality with even his most favored servants, if only because it might challenge his supremacy as a potential god.”

“I’d rather not risk it,” I replied, worried. “Erimond is a nasty piece of work.”

“Indeed. If you wish to remove all but the tiniest sliver of a doubt, then that is what we shall do,” he assured me.

“Thank you, Solas.”

\-----


	2. Strategy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The question isn’t what to do to Erimond. The question is how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points for people who can catch all the references ;)

I entered the jail quietly at midnight with Solas. Cullen and Cassandra were walking ahead of us, silently dismissing the regular guard. Erimond was the only prisoner still being kept in a cell, which left us plenty of room to work.

Solas immediately got to work drawing on the stone floor with chalk made from crushed eggshells and lyrium dust, whispering in Elvhen. We would need a complex geometric framework to trap Erimond. I went around the room making sure the walls were solid and none of the cells had anything untoward in them. Cullen moved to stand guard at the outer door once we were certain all was as expected. Erimond was asleep.

Once Solas finished setting up, he nodded to us. I took up a position on one point of the chalk framework, opposite Solas. Cassandra unlocked Erimond's cell. He woke up the moment the key turned in the lock, with a resounding clank. Cassandra quickly checked the magic suppression cuffs he’d been fitted with.

Of course, being a jackass, he started ranting at us immediately, about how we were just scared, and jealous, and nothing would matter once his beloved Elder One took the throne of the gods. Cassandra rolled her eyes and snorted in disgust, and then gagged him with a sash. He continued glaring daggers at us - me in particular - as she lifted him by his elbows and pulled him into the center of the framework, careful to step over the chalk lines.

A quick incantation from Solas held the prisoner still as Cassandra removed the suppression cuffs that would bar our access to his spirit, and then stepped away, giving me only a moment to cast the cage that would hold him in place. That was my primary purpose for the evening: to set up and hold the walls around Erimond.

Cassandra withdrew to guard the outer door with Cullen, leaving me and Solas alone with the prisoner.

Solas took up a complex incantation, in what I assume was Ancient Elvhen. Per his instructions, I repeated each phrase carefully after he recited it, for a steady call-and-response. With each phrase, another line in the framework lit up in Lyrium blue. _Twenty, nineteen, eighteen..._

Erimond had regained freedom of movement, and used the opportunity to remove the gag from his mouth. Of course, he began testing the walls of his cage immediately. I could see his lips moving, but the barrier blocked sound as well as movement. _Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen..._

Years of ritual multitasking kept me from faltering in my chant responses when he started banging on the walls and screaming at me. I still couldn’t hear him, but the faces he was making were frightful, and every strike of his fists made the barrier flash. _Ten, nine, eight..._

Erimond turned to face Solas, whose expression was blank with concentration. Seeing the Tevinter mage gathering his energy for another attempt to crack my barrier, Solas’ eyebrows furrowed slightly, and he began chanting faster. Line by line, the framework illuminated. _Six, Five, four…_

Suddenly, the air inside the cage flared incandescent, and the barrier flexed. I took a step forward, holding out my left hand to steady the walls of the barrier, snarling between rounds of chant. Erimond’s eyes widened as he looked at my feet. His grin was almost feral. I glanced down for only a moment.

My foot was covered in chalk, smeared from one of the last lines. The diagram was broken!

Erimond raised a hand triumphantly, and pulled. Everything began to happen at once. The anchor flared painfully. I grabbed my wrist with an involuntary yelp, falling to one knee. Solas shouted my name. The illuminated lines of the diagram blinked out. The barrier I had cast around Erimond dropped.

I felt a rush of cold air as Solas cast a wall of ice between us, shouting, “Run!”

I scrambled to my feet and took off up the corridor, through the door, and past where Cullen and Cassandra should have been guarding. I slammed the door shut.

I glanced around frantically, trying to sort out what was happening, only to hear footsteps rapidly approaching behind the door. I couldn’t afford to wait for it to open. I ran for the stairs up to the main hall. At that hour, there weren’t many people in there. Maybe Varric, if he was up late reading. I shoved the doors open, turning to see Erimond at the base of the steps, rapidly gaining on me as I pushed them closed with a resounding boom.

I paused only a moment, to consider where to go next. The passage under the rotunda could let me out through the kitchen, but Erimond would expect me to run haphazardly through Skyhold, or maybe try to leave by the bridge. I shook my head, and ran across the hall to the door to the undercroft, where Harritt and Dagna had the forges set up. I knew what was down there, but Erimond wouldn’t. I threw open the door just as he stormed into the main hall. I didn’t take the time to look behind me before slamming the door to the undercroft shut.

The room was dark. Even the forge was cold. The only light came in from the full moon shining on the rushing waterfall at the far end of the hall. I tossed a light wisp into the air, and began my search. I found something useful tucked behind the potions development table, and grasped it eagerly with both hands. Sure enough, Erimond was opening the door to the undercroft as I was climbing onto the ledge under the waterfall.

Erimond shouted something at me, but I couldn’t make out the words over the sound of rushing water. A flare of fire burst at my feet as I leapt off the ledge into the waterfall, whistling three notes, holding up the plump white bird furiously clucking and flapping as we glided through the brief split in the water.

\-----

Behind me, the waters closed in time with the last notes of an ocarina fading on the breeze. The bird escaped my grasp, and I fell onto the mossy landing. I took off running again, jumping down a series of grass-covered ramps stretched across the river that flowed down the ravine. Erimond emerged from the waterfall with a splash and a shout.

“ _Kaffas_!”

I hastily dove into the rushing waters below, to let the flow pull me under the surface of the water. For a moment, the rush of water gave way to a pressing silence, and my mind was at peace. I willed my heart to slow, allowing the current to carry me downstream under the water for as long as I could stand it. I could feel the pulse of the water as Erimond tried to catch up with me, but the current captured him as thoroughly as it had me.

Gasping wildly for breath, I surfaced in the wide expanse of a lake surrounded with waterfalls and palm trees. Counting my blessings for all those swimming lessons my mom forced on me as a kid, I kicked rapidly to reach the nearest shore, climbing the path to the caves under the upper lakes.

“Where do you think you’re going, bitch?” Erimond shouted from the ledge as he emerged, drenched, from the waters behind me.

I bit my lip and darted around the corner through a tunnel, Erimond hot on my heels.

The caves were dank in the twilight, draped with moss-laden vines. I followed the winding path up and around, hoping the echoes in the tunnels would confuse my pursuer. Rounding a corner a little too quickly, I ran straight into a dead end of stone walls totally covered in vines. I skidded to a halt, looking frantically for a sign of where to go next, my heartbeat rushing in my ears.

Erimond chuckled behind me, and I spun around.

“What now, Inquisitor? No chickens to fly? No fish to swim?” He sauntered towards me, a haughty smirk on his lips. I looked at him, and then looked up, and smiled. He looked up just in time for a giant spider with skull markings to drop straight on his head, knocking him off his feet.

Pulling the vines aside revealed a small opening, which I crawled through while he scrambled to his feet and fended off the spider.

\-----

I stood up too fast climbing out of the low tunnel, dizzily landing on one knee along the narrow ledge. A series of small boats floated through the warm tunnels, each filled with tourists pointing excitedly at an animatronic dog with iron keys in his mouth. They paid me no mind as I climbed over the stone facade, dodging mechanical pirates as I went.

I snuck up along concealed stairs to reach a wide, blue room adorned with tiny fireflies suspended on wires. Lazy banjo music floated across the water from a bayou shack. Next to the shack, a wide platform held tables for two or four, each with a flickering candle, waiting for the next rush to begin. The air smelled like garlic bread, and chocolate sauce. I climbed onto the platform, weaving my way between the tables.

“Get off me you idiot children!” Erimond’s voice called from somewhere behind me. I felt the pulse of a mind blast and looked back, startled, to find him climbing out of a shallow boat towards the restaurant platform. _How had he followed the boats around so quickly?_

The doors to the restaurant were hidden behind blackout curtains, difficult to spot in the dim light. I stepped out into the cool, dusk air and let the curtains drop behind me.

The ornate square in front of me was crowded with strangers all staring out towards a swashbuckling display to my right. Flickering colored lights and distorted music blared from the waterfront. I slouched down, navigating the gaps in the crowd, taking an erratic path to a mansion standing several stories tall, towards the back of the square.

Four fluted columns lined the front of the building, interrupting the filigree balustrade of the surrounding galleries. Seeing no obstacles to entry despite the crowd, I ran into the open foyer and turned right into the nearest small, square room.

The pop of fireworks and the roar of the faceless crowd almost drowned out Erimond’s thudding footsteps as he found the open foyer just in time to catch the doors to my small parlor closing.

“You are more trouble than you are worth, woman!” He shouted in frustration through the rapidly-shrinking gap.

\-----

The walls stretched as the floor dropped slowly beneath me. I watched as the familiar portraits took on haunting traits, smiling grimly. Erimond couldn’t get me for the moment. I was safe enough to pause briefly.

“Breathe, Ember. You can do this. The only way out is through. Solas will know what to do.” I chanted the motivational speech like a series of mantras, counting carefully. Somewhere above me, a disembodied voice screamed, and the lights flickered out. The wall behind me slid open, and I spun around again, to face the dim hallway.

“The only way out is through,” I repeated, and started down the path cautiously, wending my way between strange statues and wafting shrouds. It was only a matter of time before Erimond caught up with me.

I found the path that lead through the outer graveyard to the train station just as the train was pulling in. A shout in Tevene somewhere behind me had me cutting across the graves to climb the iron fence blocking off the tracks.

I jumped down onto the bricklaid platform and boarded the nearest carriage. A loud, low whistle blew, and the train started to pull away from the station.

“ _Venhedis!_ ” A rushed clatter drew my attention to the robed figure scrambling aboard the other end of the long passenger car. I turned to escape in the opposite direction, but it was too late. A wave of flames rose between me and the doors. I turned warily to find Erimond leaning with his arms clawing the backs of benches to either side, scowling at me threateningly.

“YOU! What is all this madness? This is your doing, isn’t it? I will _make_ you tell me!” he snarled, stalking towards me one row at a time.

I took a step backwards involuntarily and winced as the flames singed my clothing. Glancing behind me, I closed my eyes for a moment, hoping he would mistake my expression for resignation as I focused my energy.

I felt his hand grab my left wrist. Resisting the urge to pull back my arm, I opened my eyes to glare at him, and spoke one word: _“Sowilo!”_

Erimond snatched his hand back, hissing, _“Kevesh!”_ as my arms were enveloped in wings of flame. I held his gaze, as I backed through his fire wall into the shifting space between rail cars, and then dropped the guise and turned to slam the button for the next door to open, leaving Erimond to heal his hand while I escaped into the next carriage. I didn’t look back, but felt a small rush of relief to hear the door behind me click shut.

\-----

A jovial man in ragged, archaic clothing held court at the far end, drastically out of place in the modern commuter coach. But then, I would never wear leather mage’s armor in a tube station either. Erimond struggled to open the stubborn gangway door. A guard in pseudo-medieval livery helpfully opened the door for him, only to stop him and demand that he identify himself.

I grinned as the side doors slid open, and a recording reminded me politely but firmly to “ _Mind the gap!_ ”. I leapt across the small chasm onto the smooth concrete platform, sliding past a small, eager crowd throwing coins to - or perhaps _at -_ a busker. A narrow door in the otherwise smooth wall popped open as I approached, and I ducked into what should have been a small janitor’s closet just as Erimond was rudely shoving his way through the crowd of music aficionados. I let the door latch gently behind me as I felt my way into the narrow space, lit only by the light seeping under the door.

A strange, unpleasant smell guided me through the dark tunnel that should have been a closet, and I emerged in a wide courtyard beside a broad river, crowded with a bewildering assortment of people and booths made from any reusable materials that could be found. Strings of old-fashioned flickering electric bulbs lit the area, giving the whole place a vaguely steampunk feel. The septic smell floating through the market air was truly unfortunate. I tracked my way to the riverside as quickly as I could manage, less to escape Erimond again, and more to be rid of the stench.

The long, slender bridge across the murky waters disappeared into even murkier night air. The far end could not be seen from the shore where I stood. For the first time since I began running, I was more afraid of the path ahead than I was the chase.

Three steps onto the bridge, and the almost tangible darkness had already overtaken me. I closed my eyes, giving up on the instinct to navigate visually, opting instead to listen as carefully as I could.

I could still hear the market behind me, and Erimond shouting for the motley crowd to make way, irate, but muffled, as if the air around me was too heavy to carry the sound. To one side, a growl reached my ears. Less a beastly warning, more a wet gurgle of something very large and very _hungry_.

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to Nintendo, Disney, Neil Gaiman, and the BBC. ;)


	3. Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No plan survives contact with the enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As if things weren't weird enough...

The voices slammed into me, a memory and an attack in one: Young children screaming and crying as they fell away in the darkness. The bridge under my feet gave way to a rough ledge that threatened to slide away. My feet were bare against the dirt and rock. My breath quickened, and my fists clenched painfully at my sides.

I had been here before, but not for ages. It wasn’t what was _in_ the darkness with me that frightened, but the creeping, ravenous Darkness itself.

Fighting panic, I invoked the Sun again, letting the flames envelop me, until the darkness pressing on my eyes gave way to heat and light. I couldn’t see any better through the flames than I could the darkness, but I felt protected. My breathing slowed. The sensation of bare feet against loose rocks faded away, replaced once more with strong boots on smooth stone.

To my relief, I smelled clean air, and heard again the quiet flow of the river beneath the bridge. Letting the flames subside, I opened my eyes to find myself standing in front of a wide wall of tall windows. The lower floor was sunken into the ground. I came around to one of two short staircases that formed a bridge under the main door. To one side of the door, a round plaque read _“Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Houses.”_

Smirking, I knocked firmly on the door. It swung open silently, allowing me access to the strange building. If Erimond was lost to the night, so much the better.

The long, winding hallway was lined with locked doors and candle sconces. A rickety wireframe elevator stood open at the end, waiting for a passenger. I entered the tiny cart and pulled the lever to go down.

The elevator landed with a lurch, depositing me with a sharp “ding!” in front of a seemingly bottomless, dark chasm crossed by a narrow plank. Still, it wasn’t so narrow as a balance beam, so I took a deep breath, held out my arms, and walked carefully across the makeshift bridge to the top of the spiral staircase. The elevator gave a rattle and another “ding!” and I turned with one hand on the top banister of the stairs to find Erimond emerging from the elevator. He looked down at the narrow plank, eyebrows furrowed, and then up at me. He raised his eyebrows and one hand to point at me accusingly.

“A plank? The last bridge was a complete nightmare, and now you present me with _a plank_?” he growled shakily, taking a step forward onto the plank, only to pull back again and glance nervously down at the swirling darkness below when he felt it bend under his heavy boot.

I grinned and waved my left hand at him cheekily. “See you at the bottom, one way or another!” and then took off running down the stairs.

The staircase wound clockwise, down and around, for spiral after spiral. I lost track of the repetitions long before I reached the bottom. The last step was a doozy, leading only to a large, rough hole in the ground. Torchlight revealed a dusty stone floor maybe six feet below, so I took a deep breath and leapt down, rolling with the landing to avoid twisting my ankles.

Despite the small, burning pitch torch mounted on one wall, the small stone room looked forgotten. The dust on the floor was thick and undisturbed aside from my landing, which had left me coated in the stuff and stirred the grey particles into the air. I sneezed several times before I had the chance to look around. The walls had no openings, only a shallow, door-shaped indent on one side. I moved to examine the indent only to trip on the edge of something on the floor.

It was a raft of wooden planks just about the size to fill the indent. Shaking my head at my own absentmindedness, I lifted the slab up into the shallow space, listening for a quiet “click”. I pulled on the door from one side, and found only a small, dark closet, so I closed it again and tried opening it from the other side. Sure enough, light and fresh air poured through the opening!

Grinning, I ran off into the labyrinthine forest beyond the stone wall.

\-----

The forest was dim, afternoon light filtering green through broad leaves. The trees were ancient, gnarled, some worn smooth with the passage of time, others rough with bark scratched raw by monstrous claws. Roots reached up and over the mossy ground, to plunge again deep into the rich soil. There were no clear roads, only less obstructed paths, less imposing branches.

I walked carefully uphill towards the setting sun, mindful of my feet. The woods seemed filled with skittering and mischievous voices, but I never saw more than a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. For all intents and purposes, I was alone.

Once I lost sight of the stone wall behind me, the depths of the forest seemed to grow darker with each step. A shallow creek became my only guide. Aside from the occasional flash of brilliant sunset light reflecting off the water, it became almost impossible to see more than a few yards in any direction through the forest.

I frowned, slowing to a stop to examine my surroundings more carefully, unsure whether this was a useful way to make the path more clear, or a threat from encroaching darkness.

A flash of lightning striking near my feet jolted me out of my reverie. I looked down along the fresh trail behind me to find Erimond raising his arms, a long metal staff in his hand, to cast another lightning spell. Where had he gotten the staff?

As I ran, several bolts struck my footprints in the loam, leaving a smell of ozone and burnt hardwood in my wake. Erimond shouted something in Tevene, and I yelped as a rumbling tree root reached up to snag my left ankle, pulling me to the ground. I almost didn’t get my barrier up in time to absorb the next volley of lightning. As Erimond approached, I concentrated on the trees. _Why would they help the lightning thrower. Did he not threaten to burn the forest with his magic?_

A moment later, my sore ankle was released, and a cage of wooden limbs had risen around Erimond, entwining above his head. He snarled incoherently as I limped away.

That had been entirely too close. I needed a different strategy.

I continued upstream, careful not to stay more than a step or two in the water, for fear of more of my adversary’s lightning attacks. The waters of the creek flowed from a bubbling spring welling up out of cracked stones against a mossy cliff.

Yes, bubbles. I could use this. It was a calculated risk, but one I was fairly certain I could manage.

I reached out to grasp one of the bubbles with gentle fingers, and gaze into the depths of the fragile sphere as if it were a crystal ball.

\-----

A music box waltz filled the air, mixed with muffled laughter and whispered conversation. Blank-faced wisps posing as masked faery dancers with motley costumes more ornate than any I had seen at Halamshiral swirled around the room in pairs. I closed my eyes for a moment, willing my clothing to shift into a something sparkling and ragged, placing a long-beaked mask on my face, and then looked up and around at the curved, reflective walls to spot Erimond using his staff to bluntly shove his way through the crowd towards the center. I nodded in satisfaction, and moved carefully around the edges of the room between the dancers, trying to disguise how I was favoring my left foot.

“You’re trying to confuse me with strange dreams, Inquisitor, but it won’t work!” Erimond proclaimed loudly. He was baiting me, trying to get me to give my location away by responding directly.

I shook my head, and willed the music to change, grinning when the faery-wisp dancers switched smoothly from ballroom to goth club.

_“Sweet dreams are made of this;_

_Who am I to disagree?_

_I’ve traveled the world and the seven seas._

_Everybody’s looking for something.”_

I allowed one of the wisp dancers to sweep me up into the dance, blending into the movement, only to step hard on my injured left foot. I winced, dropping to one knee, glancing up in alarm. He wasn’t looking my way just then.

_“Some of them want to use you._

_Some of them want to get used by you._

_Some of them want to abuse you._

_Some of them want to be abused.”_

Struggling to my feet, I turned to see Erimond. His back was still to me, and he was raising his staff again, chanting in a low, ominous voice. Wincing, I braced for lightning, only to blink in surprise when the innermost ring of spirits near him transformed back into their natural, wispy forms. Row after row of wisps shifted out of the dance, their whispers turning to a droning hum.

I glanced around the room, breathing too quickly, to discover the mirrored walls obscured by an encroaching dark mist. As it overtook the outer rings of spirits, their laughter turned to shrieks, only to be silenced abruptly when they disappeared into the darkness.

The dream was rapidly escaping my grasp. I was running out of options.

Erimond, foolish man, didn’t seem to care about the encroaching darkness, and his back was still to me. I took a deep breath and ran straight towards him, to the center of the room, the lowest point in the dance floor.

 _It’s a trap, give me a trapdoor!_ I hummed urgently, hoping against hope that I could manifest an exit, open it, and escape before Erimond or worse, the ravenous Darkness, could catch me.

Erimond turned to spot me, smiling triumphantly as I slid across the floor to the door that had appeared under his feet. I pointed at the door, and shouted the first magic word of opening that came to mind: “ _ALOHAMORA!_ ”

Blessedly - if somewhat embarrassingly - the door dropped open, plunging Erimond through the opening below with a startled yelp. A brief glance behind me as I scrambled through the door showed roiling dark mist about to pour through. I slammed the trapdoor shut and locked it.

The room beneath me was a puzzle box of staircases and archways running in every possible direction, alabaster stone threaded through with gold that shone like lightning strikes through the solid rock. The light was just bright enough to illuminate every surface, reflecting from around corners and down halls.

Somewhere outside, thunder rumbled.

I leaned over the nearest ledge to see Erimond walking up a short staircase up to another landing below me, looking around, his eyebrows furrowed.

The center of the room was far below. A dark pool reflected like a scrying mirror in the middle of the pale stone floor. Several staircases seemed to lead to the pool, but their tops were hidden around corners and behind pillars.

As I watched, churning, inky swirls began to warp the surface of the pool. My heart sank with dread. No matter which way I turned, it found me, again and again.

I took a deep breath and turned to take the staircase to my left, to pass through an archway, away from the darkness below. Under my breath I counted quietly. _“Four in Skyhold, three in Hyrule, four and five and three… yes… three and three are six, four and four are eight... fourteen plus five is nineteen, yes, yes, good.”_

I came around another corner and glanced down again at the clouds of dark mist now rising out of the scrying pool like black steam. I shook my head, biting my lip. There was nothing for it. All I could do was trust that if the darkness succeeded in swallowing me, Solas would be able to come find me somehow.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and _jumped_.

\-----

Erimond gave an enraged shout as he saw me falling past him. A deep, rumbling glissando of thunder overtook the room as the stone ripped apart, electricity dancing through the cracks as each staircase and archway floating independently in a strangely beautiful echo of the raw fade.

As I fell, I willed my wings to unfurl, catching me mid-air and allowing me to glide safely towards the ground where Erimond was now standing, glaring at me with hatred and rage, oblivious to the insidious mists curling around his feet. _How could he not feel them eating away at his flesh?_ I wondered. _Is his soul already so steeped in corruption that it feels normal to soak his feet in pure, ravenous_ malice _?_

The more the darkness had to consume, the faster it encroached. As it rose above his knees, Erimond finally took notice, looking around at the tendrils of mist with alarmed, jerky movements.

“What is this?” he demanded, shaking a hand to pull it free of an ambitious tendril rising above the flood.

“This is the end, Erimond,” I declared, projecting my voice over the last of the stone’s rumbling. “ _Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle, beyond the golden city, to take back the dreams you have stolen._ ”

Erimond glanced frantically back and forth between the rising tide of darkness and my floating form, alternately yelping in alarm and growling defiance. He began ranting, “You dare! You are _mistake_ , a thief! You know nothing of the power you claim! _Ouch_ , what? Get off me!”

 _“For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great.”_ I intoned, pulling light in around me.

“Your kingdom? Ha! What, you and your precious _elves_? My Master has promised me more than you could ever imagine being worthy of! We will destroy you!” he shrieked, driven mad by pain and indignant defeat.

I set my jaw and spoke the final words: **_“You have no power over me.”_ **

A single, powerful bolt of lighting sliced down the middle of the space, striking Erimond as the world fell away, split between shrouding darkness and blinding light. Erimond screamed, throwing his arms up to reach out for salvation from an unheeding master as he sank further and further beneath the waves of shadow. His screams became muffled whimpers and finally deafening silence as I rose to the light, my wings carrying me aloft.

_Twenty._

_\-----_

When the light subsided, I was lying in my bed in Skyhold, my hands resting on my heart, my chest rising and falling rapidly with my labored breaths. The crackling fire in the hearth and the rain on the balcony doors was a welcome respite to the mad world I had built and escaped.

I groaned quietly as I sat up, to find Solas just waking in my desk chair, pulled up to the end of the bed. Cullen stirred from his place standing guard to examine us both warily. Cassandra moved to the desk to pour a glass of water, which she offered first to me and then to Solas.

“Is that it? Did it work?” I asked Solas quietly.

He nodded somberly. “Erimond’s soul is imprisoned. He will not be able to claim a new life once his body is destroyed. If the prison breaks before he does, he may become a spirit, and in time discover a way to manifest again in this world, but that will take time and luck, neither of which are in his favor.”

I frowned, thoughtfully. I would have preferred Erimond totally obliterated, but that, apparently, was not a realistic option.

But Solas spoke again. “I do not know why or how you added the consuming shade, Ember, but it seems that it may well destroy him, leaving the prison filled only with mindless hunger and rage, of which there are plenty of spirits in the fade already. I would not have thought to cultivate such a trap.”

I winced, closing my eyes. “I didn’t do it on purpose. It's from my dreams back home, as a child. I wouldn’t… I’m not sure even destroying a monster like Erimond is worth bringing _that_ into the world - any world.”

Solas shook his head, sadly. “The void has corrupted this world long since by those far more willing to court it. Do not blame yourself now for its presence.”

Cassandra and Cullen exchanged bewildered looks, trying to follow our cryptic conversation. She grunted in frustration, and frowned at Solas, who shook his head. Cullen’s eyes met mine, entreating, but neither spoke.

I sighed, and patted the bed next to me, indicating that they were welcome to sit. “We should probably explain what happened,” I offered wearily.

\-----

The physical execution the next day was anticlimactic. Erimond moved through the world with less volition than a Tranquil, seemingly blind and deaf, a puppet lacking the will to resist our maneuvering. He was alive, able to walk, to avoid walls, climb stairs, follow explicit instructions, but his expression was totally blank, showing no sign of recognition that his eyes registered anything in front of him. It was as if he still had function, but lacked _meaning_.

Cullen tied his hands behind him as a formality, and brought him to the platform in front of the Mage’s tower where Cassandra was waiting. A small crowd of nobles, wardens, and Inquisition soldiers had gathered to watch from the gardens below, with more soldiers and mages lining the battlements behind me. I’m not a huge fan of public executions, but this one would bring catharsis to countless people, so I allowed it.

A public execution is, ultimately, a show of power. My job was to make it as showy as possible.

I descended the stairs with the Iron Bull at my back, to approach the prisoner with paced deliberation, and planted myself beside him, half turned to let the crowd see me fully.

“Livius Erimond of Vyrantium,” I announced, “you have been found guilty of atrocities inimical to all sentient beings. With the blessings of the crowns of Ferelden, Nevarra, and Antiva, the Empress of Orlais, the Tevinter Magisterium, and the Order of Grey Wardens, the Inquisition finds you _unworthy of existence_!”

I opened my left hand, willing the anchor to crackle dramatically before opening a minuscule rift in the middle of Erimond’s chest. Many of the mages on the battlements above took a step back as they felt the veil twist in and around the prisoner’s body, tearing him apart from the inside out.

As the effects became more noticeable at increasing distances, a wave of gasps rippled across the crowd. I waited and watched as his body was consumed by the raw fade, leaving only flashes of green energy behind.

When the last bits of him were torn apart and dissolved, I calmly closed the rift with a flick of my wrist, and turned to look across the crowd. My soldiers looked grimly satisfied. The remaining Wardens’ faces were a mixture of remorse, despair, and quiet resolution. The mages looked moderately horrified, though some were unabashedly curious. But most of the nobles, _bless their entitled hearts_ , were just tittering with excitement for another bit of gossip to digest.

I scowled, squaring my shoulders, and nodded to Leliana, Dorian, and Solas, who were watching from the balcony of my suite. Then I turned to march back into the keep, leaving the spectacle behind me.

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More credit to Neil Gaiman and the BBC. Also, Jim Henson, Brian and Wendy Froud, M.C. Escher, and The Eurythmics. Oh, and J.K. Rowling, of course.


End file.
